


5 Times Interrupted, 1 Time No One Did

by DelektorskiChick



Series: The Darkness of Dawn Series [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, Vampire!Natasha, Werewolf!Steve, Winged!Clint, werewolf!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 19:27:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelektorskiChick/pseuds/DelektorskiChick
Summary: A 5+1 of Clint and Natasha set during various times in The Darkness of Dawn. All will be used in that work, but it's Clintasha week on tumblr and this is for the Night and Day category. Be forewarned; this contains spoilers for the (unfinished) previous work in this series. I tried to be vague, but eh.





	1. Chapter 1 - The Daughter

Natasha had laid down in the worn bed with the curtains wide open, intent on never waking from her latest death-sleep. So it was much to her surprise when she actually did wake, and that she was pulled snuggly against a hard body and cocooned in warmth and feathers when she did so.  
Wait, _feathers_?  
She turned slightly. The last of the sunlight was still fading from the room, but there was enough light left to see that the wing covering her was an extremely large and beautiful specimen of a red tailed hawk's wing.  
"Clint." Her voice was so quiet that she knew it would never wake him, but it was only because she'd forgotten to draw in air. If she had remembered, she'd have screamed his name from the rooftops.  
He came _back_.  
He came back for _her_.  
She quickly finished her turn, gasping in air as she buried her hands and face against his warm chest. His wing still shielded her from the last of the sun's dying rays.  
The quiver that ran through her as his arm tightened around her was pure joy.  
"Jesus, Tasha. You were steaming when I finally found you. I thought you'd never-" he had to swallow hard, and Natasha wanted to cry.  
"I never meant... They took everyone. They _killed_ everyone. May and Wanda and Fitzsimmons and Ward-"  
Clint tensed. She was so close, he couldn't hide it. He'd tensed when she said Ward's name.  
"Clint-" She tried to sit up, but he yanked her back down.  
"Sun hasn't fully set. Stay here or you'll be fried." She finally looked up at his face. She froze, startled by the anger there. "They didn't... Your people..." His jaw flexed several times, as though he was grinding his teeth. "Ward turned on you. Loki did to your people what he'd done to me.  
"Ward _is_ actually dead. Loki had him crucified for turning on his sire. But my people rescued your people. They're a little worn around the edges-"  
Natasha didn't hear the rest of his words. Her ears were buzzing too loudly. Alive? All of them alive? And Ward-  
Natasha's head spun.  
"Why?" Her voice was a tiny whisper. She'd forgotten to take in air again. "Why did Ward turn on me?"  
Clint didn't answer. She looked up at him, but he refused to meet her eyes. Was he- was he ashamed?  
"Apparently Ward was jealous of me." He said, and Nat felt like she'd taken a sword to the gut. "He wanted you, wanted you to turn him so that he could be your forever." Clint swallowed hard and finally met her gaze. "It's all my fault, just like always. I'm sorry, Tasha-" She pushed upwards and kissed him, stopping his words.  
When they finally stopped so that Clint could breathe, she shook her head. "If it was anyone's fault, it was mine, sweet. I used him as a substitute for you. But I never felt the same about Ward that I do you." She kissed him again, harder. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and Clint's hot hands gripped her hips so tightly she thought she might burst.  
She felt it when the sun dropped completely behind the horizon, when the last of its deadly rays disappeared. She rolled Clint then, turning him onto his back and sitting astride his waist.  
"Tasha-" he muttered through their twined mouths, "Tasha wait a moment-"  
She couldn't. She sat back amid his protests, but they died rapidly when she pulled her shirt off over her head, letting her scarlet curls cascade down as she threw the shirt aside.  
His hot thighs burned against her backside, but she couldn't get enough of the way he was just _looking_ at her. Like he was a drowning man and she was dry land. His fiery hands slid gently up her ribs and his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts. Natasha tipped her head back and hissed in delight. This had been coming, and for far too long.  
She braced her hands on his jean-clad knees and ground down her own denim-covered center on him, trying to let him know without words how he made her feel. She knew that she'd gotten her point across when Clint used his wings and abs to push himself up to meet her, lips brushing across her bared throat, following the line of the scar that he'd put there and then helped to heal.  
"Have I ever told you," she gasped, "How incredibly hot it is that you never wear a shirt if you can help it?" She felt his chuckle rise from his abdomen, vibrating through both of their bodies.  
"It's simply practical. Shirts are tricky to get on when you've got wings in the way, especially if you're in the middle of say, a fight for your life that you just happened to wake up to." His words fell across her skin like the tips of his feathers, soft and delicate. She rested her hands on his shoulders, arching her back and pressing her breasts forward and toward him.  
He'd just begun moving lower, towards her flesh where it ached for him so, when someone threw the door open behind them.  
Natasha stiffened instantly, preparing to turn and throw herself at the intruder, but Clint's hands tightened around her ribs and his wings wrapped around her, shielding her yet again.  
"Clint, what-" It was the young Avid that Clint said was like a daughter to him, Kate. She stopped mid sentence, seemingly realizing what she'd interrupted. "...It's probably best if I just let you know that Steve says now that the sun's gone down, we need to get moving. I'll be over in my room, attempting to bleach my brain."  
Clint rested his forehead against Natasha's chest. "Thanks Katie. Tell him we'll be out in ten."  
"Brain bleach. Maybe Pepper has a spell that can do that."  
She shut the door behind herself with a loud thunk, and Clint groaned. "I am _never_ going to hear the end of that."  
Natasha had to laugh, even though she was frustrated at the disruption. She placed her hands on either side of Clint's face and raised his lips to hers. She gave him a long, hot, promising kiss, then slid out from between his wings and his arms.  
"To be continued, sweet." She felt his eyes burning paths along her torso as she slid back into her shirt. She walked towards the door, then gazed at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'll let them know that you're on your way. Should give you enough time to, ah, _compose_ yourself before Steve comes looking for you himself."  
She walked out of the shabby motel room door, smiling at Clint's groan.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Leaders

If Natasha had still been required to breathe, she would have gasped when Clint suddenly grabbed her from behind and pinned her to the wall. She knew it was him, even from behind her. No one else smelled quite the same; of leather and cordite and fletching glue. No one else had hands that nearly burned her as his did.  
His wings came down on either side of her, creating a deeper patch of shadows in the alley, closing her in and wrapping her in the darkness that was always a part of her. Then Clint started pressing feather-light kisses to the back of her neck, and Natasha's mouth dropped open in a small whine of hunger. Clint's hands, searing like branding irons, wrapped around her midriff and pulled her back against his armored front. Even through the leather, the heat of his body scorched her. She could feel him against her ass, hard and wanting, and she wanted him right back.  
Just as he was sliding one of those heavy calloused hands into her pants and sucking small bruises into the lee of her neck, a throat cleared from just behind them.  
Clint gripped her tighter, burying his face deeper into her shoulder. It gave Natasha enough room to turn her head and spy James standing there with Rogers in silvery wolf form beside him. Barnes had his arms crossed and was trying to look stern with one eyebrow raised, but the smirk at the corner of his mouth told her that was a battle he was losing. His mate just looked peeved.  
"You guys couldn't have waited until we got back to base? What if we'd sent someone else down here looking for you, huh?"  
Before Natasha could draw in enough air to make a reply, Clint did, his voice muffled against her skin.  
"Like hell, Barnes. You and Rogers do this all the damn time." A low growl came from the wolf next to the assassin. " _Can it_ , Rogers. You know it's true."  
Barnes was the first to break, dissolving into a fit of loud giggles. Natasha followed shortly with a deep, full throated laugh. She could feel Clint shaking behind her with his own quiet laughter. Steve Rogers seemed to be the only one not amused. The werewolf shook his head, and Natasha had to admit that seeing a three hundred pound wolf roll its eyes was fairly amusing, leading to more laughter from all three of them. Rogers grudgingly led the way out of the alley, followed shortly by Barnes, holding his gut and laughing at his mate. Clint and Natasha exchanged smiles, then walked out hand in hand


	3. Chapter 3 - The Dawn

Clint was just waking up when Natasha walked into the dark room. "Hey," His voice was sleep roughened and lazy. "How was the meeting?" He felt the bed bounce as Natasha flopped down next to him.  
"How do you think? Get that much testosterone in a room; wolf or undead, and sparks start flying. I spent the entire meeting trying to keep Bruce from hulking out and trying to make sure nobody bit anybody."  
Clint gave a lazy laugh as he rolled over to face her, even though it was so dark in the safe room that even with his excellent eyesight he couldn't see her. He knew she could see him, though.  
Natasha stopped moving completely as she saw him, and then made a small sound at the back of her throat. He'd been slightly tumescent when she'd walked in, but now he was gently stroking himself to full attention. He was under the sheet, but there was no mistaking the gestures he was making.  
She rolled fully onto her side to face him, running her hands over his shoulders and down into the small feathers where his wings met his back. "I think I'm wearing too many clothes for what you're planning." Even if he couldn't see her, she knew he'd hear the humor in her voice. "I think maybe you should do something a little more useful with those hands of yours."  
"Oh, what, you mean like this?" He answered her in a teasing tone. Clint put his hands on her waist and kissed her deeply as he rolled her back, Natasha's strong legs wrapping around his waist. He bent over her, wings slightly spread for balance, and gently nipped her chin as he began working the small buttons of her blouse open by touch alone.  
It was only here, with her, that the absolute blackness of the vampire safe rooms didn't terrify him. He normally hated being unable to see, so used to his sharp Avid vision, but here, with Natasha, that fear had no hold on him.  
Clint kissed his way down her neck, following in the wake of his hands, slowly revealing her cool flesh to his lips. She moaned quietly and arched upward as he cupped his hands over her lace-clad breasts. "So hot, Clint. Nearly burns me." She said between gasps of air. "More. Mine. More." She ran her hands through the tops of his wings, smoothing the feathers down as he gently laved her pebbled nipples through her bra. He bit down gently, and a hiss that was nearly a scream passed her lips.  
"Sensitive, huh?" Clint smirked against her breasts as he reached around behind her to unclasp the sheer lace.  
"Barton, you ass, just hurry before someone else walks in on us." He chuckled, and was in the middle of unbuttoning her pants and kissing her slightly rounded stomach when her gasp changed tone.  
"Clint, wait-" he paused, hand halfway into the skimpy panties that matched her bra.  
"What? What is it? Am I hurting you?"  
"No!" She wheezed. "It's the-" she stiffened slightly, then went completely limp, even her legs falling from around his waist.  
"Tasha? Tasha you ok?" Clint wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he was a little frantic when she didn't respond. "Nat? Natasha?" Nothing. He couldn't even check for a pulse because-  
Because she was a _vampire_. It hit him then. "JARVIS?" He asked, looking up towards the ceiling. "What time is sunrise today?"  
"Six thirty-seven, Master Barton."  
"And what time is it now?"  
"Six thirty-nine, sir."  
Clint sighed. "Thanks."  
"My pleasure, Master Barton." Replied Tony's AI. Clint ran his hands up and down his face as he grumbled.  
"Sure as hell ain't mine. _Fuckin_ ' cock-blocked by the sunrise." Sighing, he eased Natasha out of her clothes and into a more comfortable position, then covered her modestly with a sheet as he headed into the en suite shower. He turned it on, leaving the water icy to help his dick go soft again.  
Hey, it was _weird_ masturbating with the corpse of his girlfriend in the next room, so sue him.  
He leaned his head against the cool tiles and hoped to hell that there wasn't another meeting scheduled all night tonight.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Sheep

Clint had pinned Natasha in a dim stairwell in the back corner of the abandoned building they were supposed to be sweeping. Hell, they'd swept this same building four times _tonight_ , and nothing seemed any different. They had their hands on each other's hips, Natasha's back was against the wall, and they were grinding and making out like horny teenagers. Clint was hard as anything, straining against his pants, and Natasha was not helping matters the way she was moving. He hadn't known exactly just how _flexible_ she was.  
She slid one hand down off his hip to cup him, and Clint hissed through his teeth and threw his head back. When he looked back down at her, Nat's pupils had gone slightly red. He dipped his head down a little further and nipped at her collarbone. She ran an eager hand up his spine and into his hair with a whine, where she twisted her fingers into it and shifted his mouth back to hers. He grinned against her mouth, sliding his hands towards her center to work on the buckle at her waist. He felt her grin back when she realized what he was doing.  
Slowly, Clint slid to his knees as he tugged her pants down to her ankles. He stayed there, staring up at her glowing eyes and pale skin as she stepped one leg out of her clothing. She hooked her free left leg over his shoulder and between his wings and tugged him in closer. Clint closed his eyes and would have said a prayer if he believed in that anymore. He ran a reverent hand up her standing thigh, nose scenting her arousal as he allowed himself to be brought even closer to his new altar of worship.  
"Sire does that to her other sheep sometimes. They seem to like it." The small voice behind Clint nearly made him jump out of his feathers. The only thing that kept him pinned was the sudden rigidity of the muscles in the leg Nat had thrown over him. He craned his neck around to see whom that small voice belonged to-  
Shit. She couldn't be more than sixteen. She was pale, almost as pale as Natasha, and absolutely covered in bite marks. Which both he and Nat could see because she was also stark naked.  
Clint gently moved Natasha's leg from his shoulder, then stood and spread his wings slightly to give her some privacy as she stepped back into her pants. He looked at the tiny blonde before him, not like he'd done with Natasha, but like he'd done with dozens of other young people since he'd stuck his wing in with the Avengers. Treating them like a person for what was possibly the first time in years.  
"Can you tell me your name? Or at least something to call you?" He tried to keep his body posture unthreatening. This girl was one good scare away from running, and he didn't want to have to chase her.  
"Sire calls me breakfast, ever since her last breakfast died. But I used to be called Cassie."  
"Well, Cassie, we've got a place around here where you can get warm and get some clothes on, if you'd like." The girl tensed and moved backwards slightly. Clint lowered his voice and spoke to Natasha, never taking his eyes off Cassie. "Hey Nat, would you go let Steve know I may be a minute? Slowly, please?"  
Clint held out a steady hand to the girl as he heard Natasha's footsteps recede at a human pace, attempting to ask for hers, and managed not to jump when Cassie snatched his arm in her thin hands. She ran trembling fingers over the scars on his elbow where even multiple sessions with Wanda couldn't completely erase the bite marks Loki had given him. She looked up at him, eyes wide and breath shaking.  
Clint felt a small, sad smile tug one corner of his mouth up. "I understand." Was all he said.  
"Was _that_ your sire, the woman? You give orders to your sire?"  
Clint shook his head and gently placed his hand over the girl's. "There are no sires here. She's a friend. The one that did this-" Clint felt his jaw clench involuntarily. "Let's just say he's got his penance coming."  
Cassie nodded, and Clint tipped the corner of his mouth up at her. "You ever been flying, Cassie?" She shook her head in response. "Would you like to? It's the quickest way back to where my friends are."  
She seemed to ponder this for a moment, and then slowly nodded her head. Silence wasn't unusual for the kids he found, so Clint nodded back to her. "I'm going to have to carry you. Is it okay if I touch you?"  
She seemed shocked that he asked, and it reminded Clint of how he'd been when Natasha had first gotten him out of Loki's compound. Gently, he placed an arm around her back, then bent slightly and tucked his other under her knees. Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck.  
"Good. You just hold on, ok? I'll go slow, but I don't want you to fall."  
She buried her face in his neck as she nodded once more. Clint bent his knees a little further and then jumped as he spread his wings, a few quick downward sweeps launching him into the air.  
Natasha watched him from a distance, hanging up her call to Rogers. They'd get the girl warm and fed and comfortable, then give her some head shrinking that Natasha may or may not be able to help with.  
For the first time in decades, she wished that vampires could carry a child. But a dead body was unable to bring life, and rendered all vampires sterile. But seeing how tender Clint was with this poor girl, she almost wondered what he'd be like with a child of his own.  
_Their_ own.  
Natasha dropped that thought with a rapid shake of her head and started out for the base with a snort. Maybe one day she and Clint would actually get a chance to finish something they started, but not tonight.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Job

Natasha had Clint pinned underneath her, groaning in a mix of joy and relaxation. Sitting on his upturned ass that was covered only in a sheet, she curled her knuckles under her palms and pushed the heels of her hands up his back, between his wings, and then down around his shoulders.  
"Oh, _fuck_ , Tasha, that hurts." His voice was heavy with worry that she was slowly kneading out of his back.  
"Good or bad?"  
"Good. I think. I'll let you know as soon as my brain starts functioning again."  
She laughed quietly and made the motion over several times, being careful of his wing joints but also trying to work out the knots of tension she could feel there.  
"I can't believe they sent you out flying recon _again_. Didn't you just get back from the last one? And why can't Sam take a turn?"  
Clint sighed his response as she worked her hand in small, tight circles near his neck. "Sam's down with a sprained left radiale, and Steve doesn't want it getting worse." He interpreted her silence correctly and added, "And I'm not ready to send Kate out on her own just yet. She's straining at the bit to go, of course, which just makes me say no harder."  
"Because you love her like she's your own."  
"Exactly."  
Natasha kept quiet as she used just the right amount of pressure up his sides, pulling the tension out of Clint's scapular and rib area. "Right wing up, please." He did so, and Natasha had to stop her work for a moment. "There's _bullet_ holes in several of these feathers." She knew the distinctive look by now. "Were you planning on telling me about that?"  
She knew if she could see his face he'd have that guilty puppy dog look on.  
"Tasha-"  
"Stop." She deliberately took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. Her vision had gone scarlet, and she could feel her primary fangs pricking her lower lip. "I get that this is something you have to do. I do. But it takes me a minute sometimes when I remember that you're not as bulletproof as I am." She dragged her nails lightly up his sides and rode the shivers Clint made. "I wish that you weren't the only option. I can't lose you..." Natasha's voice cracked, and when Clint made an effort to turn under her, she rose up on her knees so that he could. He tucked his wings into his sides so he could sit up, cradling her between knees and torso. Her hands lay lightly against his sides, and his arms framed her as he rested his wrists on his bent knees.  
"Hey now, don't cry Tasha." He tipped his forehead forward to meet hers, resting their brows together. "You and I have both been in this game from nearly day one. We both take risks every night and day that could get us killed. But you know what?" He wrapped his arms gently around her and bumped their noses lightly together. "We have each other for as long as we have each other. And that's more than a lot of people have." He pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss, and Natasha let her tears fall.  
She really couldn't stand the thought of losing him.  
But there would be a day, sooner or later, where she would lose him. She was a vampire, just about immortal as it got. And he was Avid, unchangeable and mortal. Whether it was a bullet or a fall or if they should _actually_ succeed in this crazy plan Rogers had, old age, she would lose him one day.  
And Natasha was afraid of what she might do when that day came.  
She changed the kiss, taking charge and running her tongue against his lips, requesting permission to enter. When Clint acquiesced and let her tongue slide in, she trailed her hands lightly up his sides again just to feel him shiver. She cradled his face in her hands, treating him like the precious thing he was. He panted her own name into her mouth.  
"Tasha, Tasha," over and over. His quick hands found the clip holding her hair back and released it, allowing her red curls to fall against her back and shoulders. She was nearly as naked as he, clad in just her panties and bra. Clever fingers teased at the clasp at her spine, popping it open one hook at a time. Finally, impatient, she removed her hands from Clint's face to throw the damned thing across the room. It was slightly more difficult to get her underwear off without breaking contact between his body and hers, but Natasha managed.  
It always surprised her, how wet and ready she always was for him. She never noticed her own arousal when she was so focused on Clint's.  
The sheets flew down to the end of the bed with several kicks from the both of them, and then his quick, clever, calloused hands found her clit and brushed it with the lightest of touches. Her head dropped back and she forgot to inhale to let out the noise inside of her.  
But just as he would have slid one of those strong fingers inside her, Natasha stopped him. "Wait, sweet, _wait_." She gently pushed him back against the mattress, letting his wings spread. Clint kept his hands placed lightly on her waist. She rested her weight on her hands, which she braced on his shoulders. She kept her fangs retracted, not wanting to risk any of his blood driving her to a feeding frenzy, and lightly scraped her teeth over his collarbone. Clint moaned and dropped his head back, just as she'd done before.  
"Mine. Mine for as long as we can."  
"Yours." He breathed back in answer. She kissed his shoulders, his arms, trying to paint every bit of his upper body with her lips.  
His tears started falling as she nipped gently behind his ear and whispered, "Mine," so softly that Natasha herself could barely hear it. She kissed each eyelid with a touch lighter than his feathers could manage, then reached over and grabbed one of her collar chains.  
"Clint." He opened his eyes, hands still on her hips. He nearly stopped breathing when he saw what she held.  
"It's... It's the same one from the beginning. I- I would be honored if you'd wear it for me. As long as you're mine." Clint stared at her with his pupils blown wide for a long moment before his head tipped down in the slightest of nods.  
She bent forward as he did, and she quickly reached around his neck to fasten it while giving him a slight kiss on the lips. She sat back and stared.  
He looked like a debauched angel, wings spread sinfully over the bed, chest and neck and arms dotted with hickeys and her chain around his neck. She leaned back over to the nightstand and grabbed another, holding it out to him. He sat up, confusion in his eyes, and then Natasha twisted her torso and lifted her hair off her neck.  
"Would you mind...?" She kept her head down but watched him from the corner of her eye. The dawning comprehension and slow smile made the corners of her own mouth tuck up. As Clint fastened the chain around her neck, she went on, "My people aren't required to wear them anymore, now that we're out of vamp territory. They stay with me because they want to, not because they have to. So I thought-" she bit her lip as she let her hair and her gaze fall. "I thought they could be our thing. A sign of... Of _us_."  
Clint put one finger under her chin and turned her face to his. Natasha looked up, and he didn't need to say anything; his eyes said it all. They kissed again, twining around each other, desperate to not let anything come between them.  
Clint was just about to slide home, both of them frantic and panting, when someone started pounding on their bedroom door.  
Natasha couldn't be held back this time; Clint couldn't even get a hold on her as she snarled, eyes going a deep red-black and all six fangs coming out. She moved so fast that to Clint it seemed like she'd practically teleported to the door. When she opened it, the frame screamed as the lock and the hinges bent.  
"Either the building is on fire or the world is ending," she snarled, voice gravelly with anger and Clint wasn't sure that Natasha was aware of her continued nudity. "And I don't see smoke or hear any screaming, so why in the hell have we been interrupted _again_?!"  
Clint heard Stark babble something about _tests_ and _arrows_ and _Barton_ , and Clint was just about to get out of bed to mop Tony's blood up when Nat got finished with him (and maybe add a few punches himself; dammit Tony!) when he heard Melinda May's calmer tones.  
"Rogers needs Clint to make another pass; the shots get blurry about three minutes in."  
Clint sighed, getting out of bed and pulling on his discarded pants. "They're blurry because they started _shooting_ at me. Give me fifteen?" He walked up behind Nat, turning her away from the door and Tony's dropped jaw. She buried her head in his shoulder and Clint glared angrily at Stark, less so at May.  
The Felid took the hint and dragged Tony away by the ear, as he frantically pawed at her hand and saying something about apples.  
Clint pulled Natasha further into the room and shut the door as best as he could. He rubbed soothing circles on her back until some of the tension left her body. The rest drained out when he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.  
"I'll be back before you know it, I promise." She wrapped her arms around him tighter.  
"I wish you didn't have to."  
He sighed. "So do I, sweetheart, so do I."


	6. Chapter 6 - The Moment

They'd done it. Clint wasn't quite sure how, but they'd done it. They'd beaten Loki and his forces, and they'd _lived_. They hadn't lost anyone on their side, not at his last headcount. Everyone was beaten to hell and back, but they were all still breathing. Or in Natasha's case, at least walking around.  
In fact, the vampires had installed Natasha as their new leader, now that Loki was in the custody of the berserkers. And most of the undead that were still around to talk about it all seemed to be in agreement. Loki's supporters had either been killed or surrendered when he had. Clint had been very happy to kill some of them, given the things that they had done.  
He found himself outside the mobile construction Tony had made for Nat to protect her from the sun, just as the sun itself finished sinking below the horizon.  
She opened the door slightly, as if she had been expecting him. Maybe she had. He didn't need to say anything, he just looked at her and followed her inside when she stepped back from the door. It clicked softly shut behind him and the runner lights in the hall switched on, keeping things to the same soft twilight gold inside as they were out.  
Where always before their movements had been fevered, quick, now they were both slow and tender. They had all the time in the world now.  
At least, they had until tomorrow.  
Clint rested his hand against Natasha's cheek, and without breaking his eye contact, she turned and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of his calloused palm. He used his other hand to brush some straggling curls from her face, then drew her lips up to meet his in a gentle meeting of the mouths. Natasha rested one hand on his right hip, and the other on his chest, opening her mouth to let him inside. This would _not_ be some harried rutting. She wouldn't let it.  
Clint's arms wrapped around her lower back, drawing her in closer to his body. His wings spread around them, enclosing them in their own private world, even more secluded than her mobile dark room. Here it could just be them. No war to fight, no kids to look after, no drills to run. Just them. Being.  
Becoming one.  
Clint's hot hands slid under the back edge of her shirt, seeking her bra clasp. She pulled away from him just long enough to tug his shirt over his head and wings, as he did with hers. They kissed again, bare chest to bare chest, his nearly scorching her, hers making his nipples pebble from the cool temperature of her flesh. Natasha lifted her hands back to his neck, running the chain he still wore through her fingers. She parted their lips long enough to murmur, "You're mine, I'm yours," before kissing along his jawline. Clint carefully nipped at her ear, tongue coming out to tease the lobe.  
He loved how she'd forget to breathe with him, only inhaling to whisper her feelings to him.  
She loved how his hands never left her, kept branding her with the heat of his passion.  
Clint walked backwards towards the bed, sitting when the backs of his knees hit the edge. He brought Natasha down with him, his wings spreading out to his sides, utterly relaxed. She sat on his lap, one knee on either side of his legs, and cupped his face in her hands.  
He looked up at her like she was his whole world.  
She looked down at him like he was her anchor.  
Their lips met again, and again it was slow and almost chaste. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he cupped her ass with one hand down her pants and the other against her spine. He was holding her as though she were something precious, something delicate that might break if he dropped her.  
It made Natasha feel feminine and powerful all at the same time.  
Clint groaned quietly in her mouth as she slowly started grinding on his lap. He leaned back further, pulling her up over him, and moved his hand to the front of her pants, even as he kept his right on her back. He felt Natasha's slick outer lips and moved them gently aside to find that hidden little gem that he knew drove her wild.  
Natasha pulled their mouths apart with a slight gasp as one archery-roughened finger pad brushed tantalizingly against her clit. Clint's heated hand on her back moved up to the back of her head and pressed her mouth to his again. He swallowed all of her small cries as he touched her more firmly, moving in gentle circles. Finally, he let her head up and started kissing her neck, moving the chain she wore for him and kissing the fading scar he'd put there as he slid one finger into her and pressed upward.  
Natasha threw her head back and hissed in pleasure, walls starting to flutter in the run up to her coming.  
Clint rolled her gently over onto her back, coming out on top of her. Without removing his deft left hand from her sex, he managed to get her pants opened and off with his right and his teeth. He crouched over her, wings slightly spread, and Natasha hadn't seen anything more predatory or sexy in her life. He reached up, running his palm over one breast, then grinned as he slid another finger inside her, working them slowly in and out.  
His thumb never stopped its slow circling of her clit.  
Clint slid down to his knees at the feet of his vampire, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He loved the sight of her like this, panting in half breaths, naked skin glowing gold in the low light. He leant forward, closing his eyes, and pressed his lips against the slight curve below her belly button, never stopping his fingers. He dropped himself lower, and Natasha's back arched as he took her in his mouth.  
Natasha would have screamed if she'd remembered to draw air into her lungs. Everything kept coiling up in a hot, tight spiral inside of her, spinning her towards her release. One hand grabbed the mattress above her head, the other gently gripped Clint's hair. She wouldn't force him to do anything in this moment. It was all what he chose to do. She would _never_ take a choice from him again.  
And then her eyes rolled back in her head and she made as much of a noise as she could when Clint scraped his blunt nails along that spot inside of her and sucked hard on her clit and-  
She exploded, feeling light and truly free for the first time in decades.  
Clint slid his fingers out of her, spreading her legs a little wider, and went to town. He gave little nibbles and licks, avoiding her oversensitive clit as he worked his way around her lips. One hand slipped down to adjust himself against his zipper, but he went right back to keeping Natasha's thighs apart. This moment was about her, how she made him feel, about him wanting to worship her as the goddess he felt she was. When her hand resumed her petting of his hair, Clint started making passes back over her clit. The breathy little whines that his action drew from her made his cock twitch.  
"Clint," she hissed, and he looked up, not stopping his ministrations. "Want you in me. Now. Mine." Her eyes were glowing a soft pink, but her fangs were still tucked away. In response, Clint dipped his chin down and slid his tongue as far inside her as he could reach, her slick warmth smearing all over his lower face.  
It tore a guttural groan from her that changed in pitch as he moved inside of her. He kept his hands braced on her thighs as she trembled, and lapped up the rush of fluid as she came for the second time.  
As Natasha lay recovering from her orgasm, enjoying the post-coital glow, she distantly heard Clint undo his belt and zipper, then the soft thunk as he shucked his pants off and to the floor. She was vaguely aware of the dips in the bed as he moved, his lips the only point of contact between the two of them as he kissed his way up her body. She thought she might have whined when her vacuumed his lips over her nipple, and when she felt his low chuckle she came to the conclusion that maybe she had. He nipped and laved his way across her collar bones and up her neck to her jaw, and when he finally met her mouth with his, she could taste herself light and sweet over his heavier, muskier flavor.  
Natasha oh so carefully placed one hand on his waist, one behind his head, and then scissored her legs to flip him over. It was Clint's turn to give a breathless laugh as he tucked one wing to keep it from being crushed during the roll. She pulled back from the kiss onto her hands and knees just to _look_ at him. She'd once thought of him as a debauched angel, and did so again as she looked him up and down. He pillowed one hand behind his head and let the other fall to rest on his stomach, inches from where his leaking cock kissed his belly.  
"Like what you see, Tasha?"  
Her voice was a low purr. "More than you can imagine, sweet." She watched his pupils dilate even further than they already had, nearly encompassing his entire iris. There was just a thin ring of grey left. Natasha bent down, her fangs completely retracted, and scraped her teeth over his chest, lightly catching on one nipple. Clint gasped, closing his eyes and turning his head to bite his bicep.  
"No." She whispered, making Clint groan as she tweaked the same nipple with her fingers. "Wanna hear you, please."  
Well when she asked like that, how could he refuse? He released his arm and moaned long and low as the kept up her light scrapings all down his body. But then Nat was torn. She wanted to watch his face as she took him, but she also wanted him to keep using that mouth of his on her. She decided that, for now, at least, she wanted to watch him, to listen to the glorious noises he was making.  
"Let me know when you get too close." Was all she said before she wrapped her small hand around him and sucked his tip into her mouth. Clint nearly jackknifed off the bed. The strangled moaning scream that she ripped from his throat made Natasha feel that same glow she had earlier as she bobbed her head shallowly up and down on his cock, slowly working him deeper. He was just the right size for her, not too thick or too thin, and the perfect shape and length to hit everything inside her just right, and for her to still be able to deep throat him.  
And Natasha didn't have to breathe. She could keep him down for as long as she needed to, if she wanted to try and make him come that way. Maybe later. Now she just wanted to explore, give back a little of what he'd given her. Still slowly bobbing up and down, she added a little bit of tongue against the vein that pulsed along the underside of his cut manhood, and it pulled another cry from Clint's throat. When she glanced up at him, there were tears in his eyes and his hands were digging into the blankets near his hip. She reached up and took one of his hands, bringing it up to rest against her head as she continued to pull more of him into her mouth. His fingers curled into her hair but did not pull, still cradling her like she would break.  
Then she hit the root of him, had him fully seated in her throat, and Clint's hand pressed her tighter to him when he felt her lips brush his abdomen.  
Natasha started swallowing, working her throat around him, and Clint _lost it_.  
"Tasha, Tasha, please, you're gonna kill me, please please _please_ -" His mouth dropped open as she drew herself up off of him, scraping her teeth lightly along his length, then plunged back down again, bobbing her head along his full length.  
Clint had died. He'd died and made it to heaven, and somehow no one had realized the mix up yet. Natasha had her hands on either side of his hips, and he was crying out with every movement of her mouth. Normally she was cool to the touch, but inside her mouth she was warm and wet, and with her cheeks hollowed around him he was riding the edge in no time. He felt the familiar warmth traveling up his spine and finally managed something that was real words and not ragged begging.  
"Tasha, I-I'm so close-!" She pulled off of him with a small noise of what sounded like disappointment. Clint heaved in huge breaths of air that he felt from the tips of his toes to the tips of his wings and the top of his head. It was like breathing in champagne. Then Natasha's face was hovering over his and her lips met Clint's. Her hair brushed his chest and shoulders as they made out, tongues sliding against each other, his hands coming to rest on her sides just beneath her breasts.  
When his breathing had calmed somewhat, Natasha rested her forehead on his, then reached behind them and grabbed him gently.  
"Ready?" Was all she said, and Clint nodded in response, mouth still open and trying for hers. But that was all over in a moment, because Natasha was slipping down over him and it was warm and _tight_ and perfect-  
Natasha tossed her head back and moaned as she slowly sank down on Clint, drawing his heat into her. She placed her hands on his shoulders as she found herself fully seated on him, still feeling the stretch. Clint looked up at her through half lidded eyes, mouth open slightly and panting.  
She didn't move, not yet, but she flexed herself around him and they both moaned.  
"Tasha, so tight-"  
"So perfect-"  
Eventually Natasha adjusted to the size of him, and the first time that she rolled her hips, Clint wondered if he'd have to resort to running archery drills in his head to last. She was warmer inside than he'd thought, even more so than when he's used his tongue on her. When she slowly raised and then lowered her hips, the glide was silky smooth.  
Clint lightly ran his hands up and down her sides, stopping briefly on her hips to assist in the lift. She raised one of her hands from where it rested on his chest, placing it on one of his to guide it back up to her breast. His thumbs rubbed gently against the underside of her breasts as the swayed gently from her up and down momentum. He kept his eyes on hers, curling his back up to take her rosy tip in his mouth. She moaned down at him and a pinky sparkle lit her gaze as she sped up slightly.  
"Fuck, Clint... Sweet, love you." She could barely string two words together, and the words she did make were high and quiet. She kept forgetting that she needed to pull in air to make noise. She felt her primary fangs start to descend, and tried to pull them back in, but Clint cupped her cheek in one hand and released his hold on her breast just long enough to whisper at her.  
"No. Let them out." His wings spread and fluttered a little to help him keep balanced as she continued to ride him. "They're a part of you. And I love you too, Tasha."  
She hissed again, low, as he took her other breast into his mouth, teasing the tip with his tongue. She felt all three sets of fangs come out, her top primaries and secondaries as well as her bottom fangs, and her vision tinted pink. Not red this time, but pink. This wasn't a blood lust haze, this was strictly a _lust_ one.  
Still gliding up and down on him, squeezing at random intervals, she dug her nails into his chest, making Clint groan and drop her from his mouth. When she mover her hands and raked her fingers over his back and down along his wings, he shuddered and thrust up involuntarily.  
Clint snapped. He rolled over Natasha one last time, pinning her to the mattress with his body and his mouth, running his tongue along the sharp edges of her fangs as he started pistoning his hips faster and faster. He braced himself on his forearms, panting into Nat's mouth as she continued to claw at his back.  
Things may have begun slowly, but here, now, after all of their tension and interruptions, they could finally have what they'd been seeking.  
Clint let his wings fall slack on either side of them, tenting out the space around them, making Natasha feel like there were only the two of them left in this entire universe. Everything else simply gone. Clint tore his mouth from hers, foreheads resting together, and he had to swallow hard before he spoke. He never once slowed his thrusts into her.  
"I'm so fucking close, Tash. So close." She let one sharp-nailed hand dig into the softer skin above his kidneys and wrapped the other around the back of his head. She answered him as he keened.  
"Me too, sweet. Let go whenever you feel you can."  
His tongue dove into her mouth again, and Clint picked up his pace. His hips started stuttering almost immediately, his thrusts losing their regularity and pattern. And then he surprised her, sneaking one hand down and circling her clit with a touch as light as one of his feathers. Natasha cried out and fell down the precipice of her orgasm moments before Clint's hips stilled, and she felt him empty into her.  
Clint thrust slowly as he softened, riding out the last waves of both of their climaxes. His head dropped down to Nat's chest, his breath calming as he came down from the high. He kept his weight off of her for the most part, bracing himself on his arms and knees. Natasha's legs were bent up, cradling his hips, and one hand slowly stroked through his hair.  
"Finally." He breathed, pressing a kiss to her still sternum.  
A low chuckle passed through her body and into his. "Truth. Let me up so we can get clean before we start sticking together." Clint grimaced and rolled onto his side, leaving him feeling a little bereft as Nat got up out of the bed to grab a damp washcloth and a towel. She seemed to notice this as she returned, and crawled into his embrace after wiping herself and his soft member down. She pressed her back to his chest, letting his left arm and wing come down to cover her. She stroked his arm gently with her hand.  
"Get some sleep, sweet. I'll still be here when you wake."  
Soon, she felt his breathing even out, and heard his soft almost snores start. The tiny exhalations on the back of her neck comforted her more than Natasha had realized.  
And she needed it. Tomorrow evening, one of them would have to make a choice.  
Would Clint come back with her? Or would she leave the Vampire throne vacant?

**Author's Note:**

> Posting from mobile currently; there will be serious edits this afternoon.


End file.
